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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885215">Why You Shouldn't Set The Stars On Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horobinota/pseuds/Horobinota'>Horobinota</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Golden Deer Route, Human Experimentation, Kinda, M/M, Two Crest Dimitri, and im so bad at tags lol, angst angst angst, i dunno how to not write angst, i still dont actually know what im doing, oh boy here we go again</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:26:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horobinota/pseuds/Horobinota</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years ago, Claude watched as the Professor betrayed everyone to stand by Edelgard's side. He didn't have a plan to stop him, he didn't have a plan to keep Edelgard from tearing into the north and creeping towards the Alliance, he didn't have a plan to save the Prince of Faerghus from capture and execution.</p><p>Now, Claude still doesn't have a plan. But he does have an overpowered human weapon he stole from Gronder, complete with two crests and a lot of unchecked rage that might help turn the tide of the war. If Claude can keep him alive long enough.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Zombies Are Real And They Have Terrible Dye Jobs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A very self indulgent fic because I somehow have never seen any two-crest Dimitri AUs outside of swapping his and Edel's designs.  And I was just.... overcome by Dimiclaude brain worms. </p><p>Hope you enjoy it because who knows how long this thing will go. :D</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnin: Edel doesn't look great in this first chapter, so if you don't care for that stuff please don't force yourself! </p><p>To my lovelies who follow Caretaker: I promise this won't get in the way of finishing that beast (haha puns), I just needed this out of my system before I finish the next chapter. I will probably pick this story up between or after Caretaker is finished if people are interested in that!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claude had never really cared for anyone before.</p><p>He cared <em>about</em> people, certainly. He would not have stuck around for this war if he didn’t give a damn what happened to anyone. All of his dreams were built on how much he cared about his two homelands, and the hope that one day they would come together. He cared about the friends he made at Garreg Mach, and he cared about the old acquaintances he didn’t particularly enjoy having to meet on the battlefield. </p><p>But that was about where the care stopped. Anything deeper than that was a liability. Something to get twisted up and tear apart whatever plans needed crafting. He could take care of himself, and he figured anyone worth keeping around could do the same. He didn’t need to care for someone. Watching someone else’s back leaves yours unprotected, more often than not.</p><p>That was why he figured one memory kept replaying in his mind, during the nights he had enough free time to stare at the tent above his bedroll, rather than fall to sheer exhaustion with his nose in a book. It was a warning, a reminder what too much care could do to you. </p><p>He would be back at Garreg Mach, in the middle of Edelgard’s first invasion. He had been mostly separated from his class, pulled down too close to the chaos to take any real advantage as a sniper. In all honesty, there was a good chance he may have been felled then and there if he hadn’t found himself fighting next to an equally isolated house leader. </p><p>He didn’t really know what had happened to Dimitri at the time. He still didn’t. One day the sweet and proper prince was as infuriatingly put together as he always was, the next he had the look of a wild animal in his eyes, mumbling things under his breath and putting on fake smiles that could unsettle even Claude. It was the look of a man betrayed, so that is what Claude had chalked it up to. He’d had his suspicions that Dimitri and Edelgard had a history, after all. </p><p>Either way, it meant he was a beast in battle. More so than he already had been. Claude had never heard the sound of that many bones cracking, and the fact that he was able to hear it over the din of battle was stomach churning. But Dimitri’s seemingly new bloodlust was keeping them both alive, whether he realized it or not. </p><p>And then Teach showed up. </p><p>The Blue Lions’ professor had practically materialized next to them, glowing relic in hand. He had looked unscathed, an impressive feat until Claude had noticed none of the men attacking him were turning on what Claude considered a much more worthwhile foe. Dimitri hadn’t made the same connection. At the sight of his beloved professor, his face had lit up under the blood splattered across it. Claude had found it sickeningly funny, despite himself. The young prince had a nasty habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve, and it meant the entire monastery knew of his crush on Byleth before he himself had realized it. Claude was thankful he had a better handle on his own emotions. He really wished Dimitri could have learned a thing or two from him.</p><p>Mostly, because the look of horror on his face in those next few moments would be etched into Claude’s memory for the next five years.</p><p>He had to think of it as a warning. Don’t grow attached, because anyone can turn on you. It’s a risk not worth taking. He didn’t like to think of it as guilt. That if he’d been a little bit faster, he could have grabbed Dimitri and ran.</p><p>Instead, he watched as Imperial soldiers warped in next to Byleth, grabbed Dimitri before he had a chance to pry his lance from the fresh corpse at his feet, and warped away with him at Byleth’s command. </p><p>Claude hadn’t seen Dimitri since. His execution had become a bit of a footnote in any passage talking about Byleth’s betrayal of Faerghus and of the Church. No one had known why he did it. He had fought Edelgard at every turn before that moment, no one had even considered the possibility his allegiance wasn’t what it seemed. And as the Empire’s foes retreated, licking their wounds and fleeing to their respective nations, no one had any good plans to counter this drastic shift in power. Least of all Claude.</p><p>And that brought them here.</p><p>The meager forces he was able to gather from a feuding Alliance, camped out about half a day’s march from Gronder Field. Claude didn’t know what to expect other than a scuffle with Edelgard’s forces. Faerghus had, as expected, remained relatively silent since the war began. With no centralized leadership, it was all they could do to watch Edelgard crush every minor rebellion that cropped up. Claude figured some of the nobles most loyal to the now non-existent royal family were still putting up some sort of fight, but nothing close enough to the Leicester border to catch his attention, or be worth getting involved in. It saddened Claude, both to watch the land of people he would consider old friends get crushed under Edelgard’s boot, and to know an otherwise powerful ally was no longer feasible to call on. Leicester was caught in a corner now, and Gronder might be the end of the road.</p><p>Sure, they had managed to slip through other tight spots, but that was mostly because he’d had help. Some spies had pinned down the location of wayward Seiros knights, who were happy to have any safe land to retreat to. Claude didn’t trust the church further than he could throw a wyvern, but he liked Seteth and Flayn well enough. And he wouldn’t turn down an ally. He just wished Rhea had been with them, or had thought to flee to the Alliance instead of Faerghus, where he’d bet a fair bit of gold she had been promptly captured. </p><p>He’d gotten help after Ailell, too. Judith’s forces were a blessing, and it meant they’d been able to capture the Bridge of Myrddin. It saved them worry about an immediate invasion, at least. </p><p>But that is where his luck had seemed to run out. The Alliance had no more aid to call on, and Claude ran out of time to get Almyra willingly over the border in time for Gronder. The Empire would outnumber them, would be better armed, and with far greater morale. And since it was Edelgard, there was no doubt in Claude’s mind that she held something up her sleeve that would assure victory. </p><p>Claude sighed, squinting as sunlight began to peek through the gaps in his tent flaps. Gronder was a suicide mission, he’d come to realize. But a quick death would be better than the slow crawl of Imperial soldiers flowing into every corner of the Alliance. That same guilt from his memories threatened to eat at him now, as he put off rising and readying himself for another grueling march. </p><p>He was sending the Alliance to its death, but not himself. He still had work to do, and Edelgard couldn’t take that from him even if she wanted to. It was possible he could fake his death here. It would be easy, probably. And Edelgard certainly wouldn’t poke her nose into its legitimacy if it meant an easy announcement that would shatter the last of the rebelling Alliance. </p><p>He didn’t have high hopes for her interest in opening the borders once she had control over Fodlan. Her territory actively benefitted from it’s heavy hand on Brigid and Dagda. Open borders meant a land harder to control, and Edelgard didn’t seem the type to willingly let that go. In the academy, he’d had his sights set on working with Dimitri first. With his sympathy for Duscur and his incessant desire for peace amongst everyone, he’d imagined Dimitri would be easy to convince. Then, it would be two against one. </p><p>But Dimitri was dead, and Claude soon would be. Whether or not Khalid would be killed as well remained to be seen.</p><p>Claude pushed himself from his bedroll with a grunt, grabbing the pile of clothes he’d unceremoniously kicked to the corner. He had a whole other nation to protect from Edelgard’s imperialistic habits, and if that meant putting a few friends in additional danger, well. He knew they were strong, and he didn’t need to care for them. He had faith they could keep themselves alive. That was all they could do at this point. </p><p>---</p><p>“What a happy reunion,” Claude muttered under his breath, rocking slightly from atop his wyvern as it lurched towards the great field. He could see the Imperial banners growing closer, maintaining their advantageous position. The Alliance didn’t have an ideal spot, but it was too late to grab the higher ground. At least they had more space to spread out, even if it thinned their already lacking numbers. </p><p>He looked out, eyeing each of his commanders and making sure they were in their correct spots. With no tactician besides himself, it was as though he was managing a hundred things at once. Making sure Hilda and Raphael were at the front, fully armored and paying attention. Keeping an eye on Leonie and her pegasus in the sky. Lorenz at the head of the cavalry. Ignatz disappearing in and amongst the crowd. Lysithea and Marianne were protected at the back. The Knights of Seiros moving about under Seteth’s command. There was a wooden fortress in the center of the field. A river to cross to reach Edelgard. </p><p>A forest a long ways in the back that wouldn’t be a bad place to die unseen, if this battle turned out as unsalvageable as he feared it would.</p><p>Claude tugged the reins of his wyvern and ushered it into the air, hovering close to the ground but getting him a better view of the enemy. It was then he could spot her, the gold of her headdress glinting in what remaining sunlight was quickly being swallowed by storm clouds. There were figures moving about beside Edelgard he thought he could recognize. A mage dressed in deep blacks by her side that must be Hubert. Lysithea would make a beeline for the fellow dark mage if there was no one to stop her. Petra standing out amongst the crowd in her uniquely Brigid garb. Bernadetta, trembling on the center platform. He would have to take care of her first, for his and Leonie’s sake especially. There was someone missing though. He would have been easy to spot with his glowing green hair, yet Teach was nowhere to be seen. </p><p>That made Claude nervous.</p><p>He chose not to wait. Maybe another time he would have tried to address Edelgard, show her a little respect before battle. Or at least take a chance to get under her skin and throw her off for the rest of the fight. Not now, not when there was hardly a point. He threw his hand forward, a silent command for his army to charge, and so they did. </p><p>Claude dove his Wyvern forward, circling around the center platform and dodging Bernadetta’s wild arrows while Hilda and Raphael forced themselves forward and into the thick of the fray. Edelgard had sequestered herself in one of the back corners of the field; if they moved fast enough, his army could pincer her and keep her forces trapped. Wheeling above his army, he urged the faster of his forces to follow him. Leonie flew above him, more wary of stray archers than he was, while Lorenz and Ignatz covered them both from below. He could hear the guttural screams abruptly cut off by the blades of swords and lances and knew they were doing their jobs well. A massive flash of purple and resulting thunderous boom from across the field meant Lysithea had pushed herself forward, and he could only hope Marianne was keeping her within her Physic range. He circled his half of the army about the center platform, playing chicken with Bernadetta’s bow. Failnaught didn’t have quite the same range she did, so he settled for picking off foot soldiers below him. </p><p>They were making progress, slow as it seemed. And for a moment Claude felt a spark of hope. His forces seemed better trained, better at keeping each other alive. He watched as a knight flung his axe towards Raphael only to be blocked by Hilda’s shield, her hammer swinging down and crushing the black imperial metal like tissue paper. Leonie dove past him and flung a javelin into the chest of a pegasus rider making a beeline for Claude. Her body crumpled and fell from the panicked steed, crashing atop another soldier set alight by Lorenz’s fire spell. He dove lower, his shadow passing over Ignatz already deep in enemy lines and holding his own. </p><p>And then he heard a scream. Not one of his own, but Bernadetta’s, shrill and ear piercing and horrified. One of Edelgard’s mages was dashing away to safety, after having set the center platform alight, trapping Bernadetta in the flames, aside Hilda and Raphael and their battalions. </p><p>Claude’s eyes widened in shock, and he threw his wyvern forward before he could think better of it. “You,” he hissed to no one in particular, dodging out of the way of a magical blast coming from somewhere the flames obscured, “You bastard!” To expect a soldier to hold their own alone was one thing; to use them as live bait was an entirely different route even he would never consider an option. He cried out, well aware that Edelgard would not be able to hear him, but it meant his emotions could flow without need to hide them like usual. “She was your soldier, she was your friend, you callous bitch!”</p><p>He grunted as he yanked his wyvern’s reins back, halting its dive towards the flaming platform, its back talons held out  like hooks to fish out as many soldiers as he could. He screamed out Hilda’s name at the top of his lungs, and thanked her for being as perceptive as she was. She knew his kind of thinking, and it meant the moment she felt the wind of wyvern wings flapping around her she held out a gauntleted hand, grasping onto whatever bit of Claude’s wyvern she could get purchase on. The force of it really only threw her back with a heavy thunk, but it meant she was out of the thick of the fire. His wyvern banked and he headed back, doing the same for Raphael. </p><p>And then he banked one last time, throwing his wyvern towards Bernadetta. </p><p>He didn’t know why he went back in that moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He should have gone for his own soldiers still screaming, unable to push out of the flames. Yet it was Bernadetta’s desperate pleading that brought his wyvern diving down, talons outstretched to snatch the archer up. He couldn’t see a thing, but he could hear a startled yelp from below him and figured he’d managed something right. </p><p>And then he felt the crackle of magic force the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, realizing just a moment too late. Claude jolted forward, a force rocking him so hard he lost his grip on his saddle, doing everything just to keep a grip on his relic instead. His wyvern howled and suddenly they were plummeting to the ground. Purple flames flickered in the side of his vision, his wyvern’s right wing had been set completely alight with unnatural magic. </p><p>How had Hubert gotten so close to the front lines to reach him? Where had he come from? Had they really guessed that he would try to save everyone trapped on that platform?</p><p>Had he grown that predictable?</p><p>His wyvern hit the ground with a sickening crunch, throwing Claude from its back and nearly causing him to be trampled under the hooves of his own cavalry soldiers. His ride was in a crumpled heap, magic still licking at its body, its wings sticking out in random angles.</p><p>Claude forced himself to his feet, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out in pain, and began to dash back to rescue Berndetta from being crushed by a dying wyvern. He had made it hardly three steps before a much more familiar scream froze him in place. </p><p>He looked up and watched as Leonie plummeted with her pegasus, too far away to reach her and useless without his wyvern anyways. A flash of orange retracted from where she had been in the air, blood still spraying from the glowing blade. Cries and orders began to erupt from the half of the army closest to the forest in the back. The sound of galloping turned Claude’s head towards the source, and he was met with Lorenz’s pale face, splattered with enough blood to match the rose in his lapel. </p><p>“Imperial reinforcements are coming from the woods, Claude,” he panted, glancing back in that direction. “The Professor is among them.”</p><p>Shit. Claude spat blood that had begun to well up in his mouth—probably not a good sign—and readied an arrow in Failnaught. </p><p>“Go check to see if Leonie survived that fall and if she did, make sure she gets to Marianne.”</p><p>“And what exactly are you doing? You no longer have a mount!” Lorenz sputtered, following Claude as he began to march through his throng of panicked soldiers. </p><p>“Going to bid Teach a friendly hello, what do you think?” Claude glanced back at Lorenz, his expression unusually serious. Serious enough to snap Lorenz’s mouth shut. “Get Hilda over here. If she comes out of that forest without me, you grab her and everyone retreats. Do you understand me, Lorenz?”</p><p>“You expect us to flee?” Despite his stunned reaction, he already began to lead his horse towards where Hilda was holding her ground in the back. </p><p>“I expect you to run like hell, and stay alive like you always do.” Claude grinned, and there was no humor in it. “I don’t think you need me around to do that.”</p><p>Lorenz’s frown split his face, but he did as he was ordered. He called to Claude’s retreating back, “Perhaps, but I would much rather you be with us, you fool!”</p><p>“How sweet,” Claude muttered, firing an arrow into the chest of a mage that got a little too close.</p><p>---</p><p>“This is way too quiet for a battle,” Hilda whispered, keeping pace with Claude despite the weight of her armor. They had both managed to push past the biggest wave of the reinforcements, and deep into the woods. Some of their fellow soldiers had already filtered into the forest, seeking out new groups of reinforcements. They must have met them, because the only sound that did reach the two were distant howls and screams. They were not alone in the forest, yet there was no spotting Byleth. Not even the flash of his sword whipping through the trees. </p><p>“Trap” was written all over the moment, but Claude had made up his mind to die here, so it didn’t much matter what this forest was.  </p><p>Sure, they weren’t actively losing out there. But Claude knew better. His Golden Deer were a gaggle of bleeding hearts, and not a good match for a woman willing to set fire to a childhood friend just to get an edge on her foes. They would fight themselves to death, and Claude had no interest in waiting for that to happen.</p><p>Leicester would fall, but at least his friends had a shot at still getting out alive. Maybe he could sneak them into Almyra before Edelgard got her hands on them. </p><p>“How much gold you wanna bet Teach is actively trying to lure me specifically out here, mostly alone?” Claude mused, trying to keep his words light despite the situation. It would do him no good to despair now.</p><p>“Hate to break this to you, but I think he might be a better tactician than you,” Hilda responded, before lightly punching his shoulder. “But if you know this is a trap, why did you have to drag me out here?”</p><p>“What’s a lord without his retainer, my dear Hilda?”</p><p>“I never agreed to that job,” she pouted.</p><p>“Too late, you’ve been promoted. Guess when Teach runs me through with the Creator Sword, you’ll just have to be in charge of the Alliance too.”</p><p>“Don’t joke about that—” Hilda’s mouth snapped shut at the sound of the bushes rustling around them. She raised her axe without a word, pink eyes snapping to the source of each sound with an intent that was rare in her outside of battle. </p><p>Claude raised his bow, and listened. On the off chance he could strike Byleth down right now, it might be worth continuing this battle. He strained his ears for any sound of footsteps, for the gentle clanks of metal hitting up against wayward branches, for even the soft sounds of breathing. Byleth was quiet, unnaturally so, but even so, he was human. At least, Claude hoped he was. </p><p>It was silent, for a few moments. Only the distant echoes of soldiers still clashing on the field floated through trees. And then they were met with the sound of footsteps. Heavy, coming down with little grace on the undergrowth a ways ahead of them. It was not the sound of Byleth, but it wasn’t a friend, either.</p><p>Claude loosed his arrow in the direction of the noise, waiting to hear it sink into flesh or reflect off armor. Instead, he heard the unmistakable sharp whistle of a lance being flung through the air. </p><p>“Move!” Claude barked, throwing himself to the side while Hilda did the same, ducking her small body behind the shield she shouldn’t be able to wield as easily as she does. A weapon came crashing through the branches around them, streaking far too close to Claude’s head as he would have liked, before embedding itself in a tree behind them and causing a small explosion of bark to erupt around the area. </p><p>Claude could hear Hilda’s warbling voice before he had a chance to raise himself from the dirt.“Is that,” she hesitated, still ducked behind her shield. “A heroes’ relic?”</p><p>Claude’s head shot up and he turned back to see the lance embedded too deeply in a tree to have been thrown by a normal arm. The weight of it was eliciting creaks and moans from the surrounding wood. What little he could see of the lance’s point was flickering orange the same way Failnaught pulsed next to him, though it was losing its glow now that it was not in the hand of a compatible crest. The crest stone glittered red at the base of the lance point, an eye peering back at him. </p><p>It was impossible. </p><p>Claude racked his memory, convinced he was recalling his research wrong. There were few relics in the shape of a lance, and even fewer meant to be wielded by anyone in Edelgard’s court. Lances were the weapons of Faerghus, and Claude had done enough of his research, enough poking his nose into the church’s business to be able to tell their relics apart. That lance was missing the twitching spires he’d spotted on the end of the Gautier’s Lance of Ruin, and it lacked the sleek straight design of the Galatea’s Lúin. It was bulky, with an end like a talon that had almost managed to split a tree through to the other side. </p><p>It had been <em>glowing</em>. Unless Edelgard’s court had a more complicated family tree than he already figured, there was no reason any of her commanders should have a compatible crest.</p><p> </p><p>Something dead was waiting for them in the shadows of that forest.</p><p> </p><p>“I think that’s Areadbhar, Hilda.” Claude’s voice cracked, sounding as confused as he felt. </p><p>“I don’t know what that means.”</p><p>Claude pulled himself to his feet, keeping his eyes fully trained on the source of the lance. “It means you need to retreat.”</p><p>“What? But—”</p><p>“—Now, Hilda!” Claude snapped, and Hilda hitched her shield up and began to back away from Claude. “Get the others and run.”</p><p>“And what about you?”</p><p>“I’ll catch up. Now hurry up and go, you’re slow as shit and I’m trying to buy you some time!”</p><p>Hilda opened her mouth to argue, before huffing and pushing herself as fast as her armored body could manage back through the trees. Claude let out a small sigh of relief, before his breath caught in his throat. A figure’s outline moved at the edge of the shadows. </p><p>It lumbered forward, gradually stepping out into the light. It was tall, towering over Claude, draped in pitch black armor and a cloak in imperial reds. The color of the fabric and steel did just enough to obscure the blood staining the ends and up the figure’s arms. Metal gauntlets with clawed tips reached for a missing weapon. </p><p>Its face was still in shadow, a long curtain of white hair draping around it. </p><p>Claude could make out a single eye peering through, a milky, cloudy blue. Like all the light and color had long since been drained from it. </p><p>It wasn’t a figure Claude recognized, and yet there was no question who it was. The realization clawed at his heart deeper than any weapon could pierce it, and five years of suppressed guilt threatened to overwhelm him before he’d even had a chance to flee. He stepped back, lowering his bow ever slightly, and he forced the words that had been stuck on his drying tongue for minutes. He didn’t speak with the tone of a stranger, even though that was what the moment felt like. He spoke with the soft tone of an old friend, as he put himself between the figure and his heroes’ relic. </p><p>"Is that you, Dimitri?”</p><p>The name felt clumsy on his lips, and he questioned his assumption even now. That, and he had made a point of never really calling the young prince by his name. As much as he had protested it at the time, Claude had gotten an inkling that he’d enjoyed it. It was a bit of casual teasing anyone in a place of that kind of power might crave. And Claude hadn’t minded obliging. He was fun to tease. He was even a little cute about it. </p><p>Whatever this was, it wasn’t cute. He was unsure if the man in front of him could understand a word he’d said. </p><p>That pale blue eye met Claude’s, his clawed hands flexing and gripping at nothing. He said nothing, no sound had escaped the figure save for the rustling of his cloak against the ground. </p><p>“It is you, right?” Claude’s fake smile wobbled, any plans he could come up with at the moment disintegrating in his mind. He had predicted Edelgard had something up her sleeve. He had expected her to do something a little twisted. Dropping onto the battlefield some figment of his dead classmate had gone far beyond that. “Talk to me, buddy. I don’t want to fight you, if it’s really you.”</p><p>Dimitri’s head cocked to the side, ever slightly, and it shifted his hair enough that Claude could see why he hadn’t responded yet. There was something leathery and dark attached to his lower face, acting as some kind of muzzle. He could also see the hint of a scar, trailing down the right side of his face and slicing through his eye, which looked even milkier and unseeing than the one on his left. </p><p>What the hell had they done to him?</p><p>“Shit,” Claude mumbled, more to himself than Dimitri. He lowered Failnaught further, and took a hesitant step forward. Dimitri had remained frozen in place since he’d stepped into the light, and Claude took that as a good sign. Maybe he hadn’t expected to see such a familiar face. Maybe he was simply reluctant to attack an old acquaintance. An old friend, Claude hoped, deep in his heart somewhere. “I know you’d never put on Imperial colors by choice. I’d bet they’re forcing you to fight for them, right?” He’d been doing a lot of betting, recently. </p><p>Dimitri’s eye followed his movement, failing to give any kind of response. Claude pursed his lips slightly. “Can you understand what I’m saying? Give me a sign, won’t you? That you can hear what I’m saying?” A scream echoed from far away, and for a moment Claude remembered he was fighting a war. Whatever this was, it was important, but he needed it to move faster.</p><p>He was fighting a war. And maybe it was because he was face to face with the undead Prince of Faerghus, he decided maybe he could save the dying for later.</p><p>Claude stepped forward once more, and this time, Dimitri did the same. He wobbled as he walked, and they were close enough that Claude could see the way he rocked on his feet. He could also see past the way his cloak draped over him, to see how thin he was despite the armor. They hadn’t been treating him well, that was for damn sure. His hands lowered to his sides, no longer feeling for a lance still pierced through a tree. </p><p>Claude gave an encouraging smile, and very slowly pulled his hand from his bow string, putting away the arrow he’d had nocked to his bow. “Attaboy.” His eyes pulled away from Dimitri’s face to note the blood still sticking to his gauntlets. That worried him. Almost as much as that hair that kept pulling at his attention. Things, bad things he had heard from Lysithea in quiet confidence, echoed at the back of his mind. “They wanna turn you into an Imperial soldier, huh? That’s pretty cruel of them.” </p><p>In all honesty, he had no idea if anything he was saying was working. But at the very least, he was doing like he promised. He was giving his friends time to flee. Time to flee from whatever this was.</p><p>And he was giving himself time to think of a plan. He had a five-years-too-late rescue to make up for. </p><p>“I think I can get you out of this. I can get you away from her, if you’ll listen to me.” Claude glanced back at Areadbhar, still embedded in the tree. “If you promise not to fight any of us. We’re friends, right? The Golden Deer and the Blue Lions, we were all friends, remember?”</p><p>Claude swallowed, unnerved by Dimitri’s silence. He would take anything at this point. A grunt, a huff, any kind of noise besides heavy breathing brought on by adrenaline. Anything other than a dim eye boring a hole into his head.</p><p>He’d heard the comparisons, shit Felix would spit at him in the training halls. Claude had faced his fair share of dirty insults slung at him over his lifetime, so of all the little nicknames he’d thought up for Dimitri during the academy, he kept far away from anything alluding to animals. </p><p>Now he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was speaking to a wild beast.</p><p>He shifted on his feet, about to take a gamble. He went to reach out, just a gentle brush of a hand over Dimitri’s arm, maybe an assurance that Claude was really there, speaking to him. Only, his arm froze halfway at the sound of something cracking through the air, whiplike and loud. Dimitri jolted, and suddenly Claude felt a vice grip on his wrist and his body was flung into the air, crashing against a nearby tree trunk. Failnaught clattered on top of him, some of the arrows tumbling out of the quiver at his back.</p><p>Claude yelped at the impact, already injured bones cracking under the additional pressure. His eyes watered, and so he only saw a smudgy red and black shadow stalk over to retrieve his lance from a tree, pulling it out and slinging shards of wood every which way as he did. As he moved, and as Claude’s eye began to clear, he could see another figure in the distance. All glowing hair and eyes and sword, black cloak flapping back in the growing wind. </p><p>Son of a bitch.</p><p>The sound of movement to his side forced Claude up, and he scrambled back, just in time to miss being run through with Areadbhar as it pierced the dirt he’d been laying on. “Goddess, Dimitri!” He leapt to his feet, swallowing the shooting pain that ran up his sides and back as he scrambled to nock a new arrow to his bow. Not ideal for close combat. Leaving his axe attached to his wyvern saddle may not have been his best move. “I don’t want to fight you!” </p><p>Dimitri wheeled back towards him, brandishing Areadbhar with wild abandon. He’d always moved with a sort of restrained ferocity, but now his stance was nothing short of feral. His eye fixated on Claude, the same look in it as he’d had the last time he’d seen him. Only now Claude found himself on the wrong end of his blade. He ducked and dodged out of the way of Dimitri’s swings, putting so much energy into avoiding being skewered that he could hardly keep an eye on the mercenary looming in the background.</p><p>The mercenary not doing anything. Why was he not doing anything?</p><p>He aimed and shot a clumsy arrow at the space he thought Byleth would be, only for his legs to be swept out from underneath him. He landed hard on the ground, his head snapping back against the dirt and making his vision swim. His vision clouded once more, and he flung a random arrow up in a last ditch effort to defend himself. All it did was clink pathetically against Dimitri’s armor. He raised Areadbhar, the bone-white tip aimed at Claude’s unarmored chest.</p><p>Shit. Shit he needed to move. He couldn’t get his body to move. Was he going to die here? He wasn’t supposed to really die here, he didn’t really want to die, there was so much he still needed to do. Dimitri wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t really kill him, but he needed to move, he needed to <em>move</em>—</p><p>Claude’s hair stood on end, and a flash of light shot from somewhere behind him, streaking across his vision and throwing Dimitri back and to the ground with a pained howl. The first real sound he’d heard from him. Claude let out a panicked wheeze he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back.</p><p>“What in the hell is going on, Claude?” </p><p>“Hilda?” Claude groaned, sitting up, only to have a large hand grip the back of his shirt and hoist him up. Raphael? “What— what are you doing here, you were supposed to retreat!”</p><p>“Sorry Claude,” Ignatz responded, sliding up next to his house leader. His Wo Dao was brandished and pointed at the heap of red fabric and armor writhing from the blast of magic. “But you can’t really expect us to leave you, y’know?”</p><p>“What about Edelgard?”</p><p>Claude caught the glow of another Sagittae beginning to flicker in Lorenz’s hand as he stepped to his other side. “We had already taken care of most of her commanders. I requested that Seteth and the Knights take care of the Emperor herself. He happily obliged.”</p><p>Raphael piped up from somewhere behind Claude, gripping his shoulder. “And Leonie’s doin’ fine, I carried her to the back lines. So ya don’t need to worry nothing. Now who’re you fighting?”</p><p>Claude pulled himself forward, his eyes flicking around the trees, having lost sight of one threat. “You all need to leave, the Professor is around here.”</p><p>“Then he is outnumbered seven to one, Claude.” Lysithea piped up, dark magic fizzling around her hands now. “But that isn’t the professor. Who is it?”</p><p>“It’s,” Claude stumbled over his answer as Dimitri raised himself from the ground, blindly grabbing at Areadbhar as Lorenz shot another point blank Sagittae at his chest, sending him flying further back across the dirt. “Don’t fucking kill him, Lorenz!”</p><p>“Pardon me?” Lorenz shot back, aghast. “It was trying to kill you earlier! And why does it have a relic, who <em>is it?</em>”</p><p>“He’s—”</p><p>Dimitri heaved himself up on his hands, looking out at the gathering with half a dozen weapons pointed at his throat. His blue eye was wide, startled, just a little bit crazed as it flicked from person to person. A cornered animal unsure whether to strike out or flee. Claude heard a soft gasp from behind him, and his answer faded away.</p><p>“Dimitri,” Marianne’s voice wavered, barely audible from the back. </p><p>She slipped towards the front of the group, her hands clasped tightly to her chest, soft brown eyes focused ahead. Claude whipped to face her, not bothering to hide his surprise. He shouldn’t have been so shocked, Marianne was one of the few people outside of the Blue Lions Claude had caught Dimitri talking to. And Dimitri was one of the few people, period, Marianne had found some kind of company in during her self-isolated months at the academy. </p><p>Maybe she just recognized the relic. Maybe she recognized his face. It wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things how she knew, but it squeezed at his heart all the same.</p><p>She looked back towards Claude, deep pain in her eyes. “It’s him, Isn’t it?”</p><p>Claude nodded.</p><p>“Oh, Goddess, no.”</p><p>Claude turned to face Lysithea, her already pale face growing whiter. Her spell had begun to flicker out, horror etching itself on her face as she got a better look at the man struggling to his feet. At the hair that was no longer a tow blonde, but as unnaturally white as hers. By the time she looked back to Claude, the horror had burned away to rage, lighting up those pale pink eyes. “We’re capturing him.”</p><p>Claude choked out a laugh. “You read my mind, Lystihea. How good is the range on your Warp spell?”</p><p>“Excuse me we’re doing what?” Lorenz chimed in.</p><p>“We’re helping an old friend, is what we’re doing. Can you knock him out for me?”</p><p>“Claude,” Hilda warned. “I know you love crazy plans, but maybe we should leave this one alone?”</p><p>“Yeah, and then we leave him out here to slaughter the rest of my soldiers, I don’t think so,” Claude shot back, watching Dimitri wobble on his feet, brandishing his lance but failing to make a real move. The edges of his cloak had been seared away by Lorenz’s magic, and there was a nasty gash on his forehead that stained his hair and turned the edges pink. “Hurry up Lorenz or I’m using you as a human shield when he attacks again.”</p><p>“I don’t know how to just knock him out, Claude!”</p><p>“Well one of you, figure it out!”</p><p>Hilda’s voice broke through the bickering. “Marianne, dear?”</p><p>The gentle mage had swept forward without Claude noticing, holding her hands out the same way she’d approach a startled horse. She’d managed to pull Dimitri’s attention, her voice soft and soothing as it always was. Claude had to strain to hear her.</p><p>“You must be so frightened, Dimitri. You must be in so much pain.” Sorry Lorenz kept shooting magic at you, Claude thought. “I’m so happy you’re alive, though.” Marianne smiled, slowly clasping her hands together. “We’ll have you home safe, I promise. We just need you to sleep for a little while.” </p><p>“Marianne,” Claude started, eyeing the way Dimitri tightened his grip on Areadbhar the closer Marianne got. He was not an unruly horse, she wouldn’t be able to calm him down with sugar cubes.</p><p>“It’s alright, Claude.” Marianne hummed back, and in a moment she flung her hands forward, casting Blizzard at Dimitri’s feet.</p><p>The ice snaked up his legs and clung to his lance, freezing him to the spot in a second. His eye went wide, too startled to even struggle against the magic gripping him in place. “Please forgive me for this,” Marianne muttered, unsheathing the steel sword she held at her hip, rising on her tiptoes and swinging the flat of her sword hard into the back of Dimitri’s head. </p><p>And then he slumped, unconscious, to the ground. Marianne’s icy magic already began to shatter and disintegrate around him. </p><p>“Holy shit,” was all Hilda had to say. </p><p>Claude wasted no time in grabbing Lysithea’s shoulder and ushering her forward. “How many people can you warp back?”</p><p>“I can get you and him to the camp in one go, but that’s it.”</p><p>Claude glanced around them. He was reluctant to leave his friends trapped in the woods when he knew Byleth was lurking around them. They still had the number advantage, but that never seemed to stop the professor before. </p><p>“We can get back alright,” Lysithea promised. “You need to be around if he wakes up too soon.”</p><p>“Right. Still. Get back alive.”</p><p>She smiled. “As always. Now stand over there, and make sure you have a real tight grip on him. If you let go halfway through I can’t guarantee where either of you will end up. I don’t usually warp two at once.”</p><p>“That’s reassuring.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up and go grab him, Claude.”</p><p>Claude flashed a grin, walking over and kneeling down next to Dimitri’s crumpled form. He tugged Areadbhar from his weak grip, nearly toppling over onto the poor man when he held the full weight of the lance. “Good gods Dimitri how do you throw this thing around?” He huffed, leaning Areadbhar against his shoulder and wrapping his fingers around it tight, his other arm curling around Dimitri’s torso and gripping onto the edge of his armor like a handle. “Ready, Lysithea.”</p><p>“Hold on tight.” </p><p>Purple embers began to light up the air around Claude, gravity feeling lighter in a way that made his head swim. His vision blurred, and when he swore he saw a black figure watching from the edge of the forest shadows, he didn’t have enough time to tell if it was real before everything went black. </p><p>The next thing he knew, he was dropped onto the ground in front of his tent, an unconscious, undead prince still caught in his arms.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Regrets And Promises And All Those Other Icky Feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Coming at you three months later what is UP folks. </p>
<p>Anyways I've been picking away at this between Caretaker and all my various art projects, so here you go! It's a lot of exposition but I hope I made it enjoyable enough. :"D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>White wyverns were from Faerghus, supposedly.</p>
<p>At least, that’s what Claude had read, and he’s since held a healthy skepticism for most of the historical records Fódlan has put out in the last century or two. But the story behind that fact, which he’d assumed was ridiculous posturing on the part of a nation obsessed with making itself look tough, was actually fairly sound.</p>
<p>Wyverns themselves were not native to Fódlan itself, a fact Claude was quietly proud of for no reason the people around him needed to know. Way back when, a curious collection had crossed over the Almyran border to investigate what prey may have been worth catching in the region that would eventually become the Leicester Alliance. As cold-blooded reptiles, they still kept close to the border of the desert. But the Alliance’s climate was just warm enough that the more daring wyverns wouldn’t freeze to death come winter time. </p>
<p>Of course, wyverns were curious creatures. Stubborn sons of bitches too, who had a habit of poking their nose in places they weren’t necessarily wanted to sate their curiosity, and to find a good meal. Claude could relate. </p>
<p>Naturally, that meant a handful pushed up into what would become Faerghus, drawn by the promise of the region’s massive, native breed of fatty, furry horses. A wyvern buffet, and easy to catch given they weren’t used to fleeing great winged, taloned lizard beasts. Those wyverns managed to make a system out of the whole thing; They would migrate up in the summer months when southern Faerghus was still tolerable, gorge themselves on horse meat and whatever else they could find, and fly back down to the border. Then they’d hibernate in body-warmed underground caves over the winter months, surviving on the fat they’d built up earlier. Claude had to wonder if they were smarter than the historians gave them credit for. Wyverns always struck him as too high energy for hibernation, and they were natural hoarders. It wouldn’t surprise him if they’d figured out a way to make their meat last, and stored it with them as they braved the colder months away from the elements. But in the eyes of Fódlan researchers, they were just dumb foreign beasts wandering where they shouldn’t have. To imagine even the animals were subject to such treatment, well, Claude was better off just laughing about it most days.</p>
<p>Either way, that’s how Fódlan started to end up with native wyverns. Gradually, they adapted to the environment. Most of the time this just meant tougher skin, minute physical alterations that made them a bit hardier. But the breed closest to Faerghus occasionally ended up with a more striking mutation. Being born with white scales was a double-edged sword, it seemed. It allowed for the wyverns to blend against Faerghus’s perpetually overcast skies, or on the ground amongst early snowfalls, making them even more deadly hunters than their darker-scaled companions. Unfortunately, it made them stand out like sore thumbs anywhere else, landing them as common victims of trophy hunters looking to make bank off rare wyvern scales. And by attracting hunters, it often meant that otherwise social wyverns would abandon them for the safety of the group. </p>
<p>Even when wyverns began to get picked up for use by Fódlan militaries, riders were discouraged from training white ones because they made for such an obvious target amongst the fray. </p>
<p>To which Claude said, </p>
<p>“They’re all just a bunch of uninspired cowards. Isn’t that right, Egg?” </p>
<p>Egg replied with an annoyed huff, much more interested in the bucket of raw mystery meat at Claude’s feet. </p>
<p>“We need to work on your conversational skills, my dear,” Claude chuckled, reaching down and grabbing a squishy handful to fling into his wyvern’s pen. The meat never hit the ground, getting swept up in a loud snap of teeth that would intimidate anyone who didn’t regularly find themselves around the wyvern stables. Claude himself found the action oddly relaxing, and tried to slip away from work to tend to Egg whenever his schedule allowed him and the wyverns weren’t already taken out for some exercise and live hunting. Maybe it was the repetitive motion of chucking meat at a lizard, while listening to the satisfying clap of her jaws coming together that made the morbid task peaceful. Maybe it was because it was the one task he could do that required little to no thinking. Either way, it allowed his mind to wander.</p>
<p>He was mostly just thankful he’d decided not to bring Egg with him to Gronder Field, after everything that had happened. His excuse was she wasn’t entirely battle ready, and that wasn’t completely wrong. He’d only ever used his personal steed for travel purposes, and Gronder would have been her first battle. But in reality, Claude had chosen not to bring her because he’d truly been convinced Gronder was the end of the line. He wanted his one companion from childhood to have a chance at living that she wouldn’t have had on that battlefield. And he didn’t think he could have abandoned her and fled if the situation called for it.</p>
<p>And yet, here he was. After Gronder, after massive loss, but with a still-standing army and Adrestria in retreat.</p>
<p>And with a couple other things he really needed to address.</p>
<p>“Um,” hummed a small voice behind Claude, “Good evening. And good evening to you too, Egg.”</p>
<p>Claude spun on his heel, meeting his visitor with a good-natured grin. “Evening, Marianne. I guess someone passed on my message, then?”</p>
<p>Marianne nodded, floating over closer to Egg’s stall. She gave one of her reserved smiles at the wyvern still licking its chops, unfazed by the gore standing out on its pale mouth. It was a wonder she could find more comfort in animals that could snap her up in a single bite, or buck her ribs into tiny shards, than in the average soldier in a dining hall. But that aspect of her was the reason Claude had asked for her presence in the first place.</p>
<p>Claude chucked the empty bucket onto a pile of tools intended to be cleaned later, watching as Egg rested her head on the stall door, eyes expectantly on Marianne. She paused with her hand in front Egg’s snout, allowing a few moments for her to sniff and grow comfortable with Marianne’s presence. Once Egg looked satisfied, she rested her gentle, lightly scarred hand on an equally scarred snout. Egg hated just about everyone except for Claude, and barely tolerated anyone being within her general vicinity, let alone someone stroking anywhere near her face.</p>
<p>Marianne was just that special. But more importantly, she was smart, and empathetic. Claude considered himself much of the former. The latter he found to lack from time to time, even if he didn’t consider him as bad as a certain white-haired arsonist. Speaking of.</p>
<p>“How is Bernadetta holding up?” Marianne had been at the side of their prisoner of war turned patient ever since they got her to a decent medical tent. It was a miracle she had survived trapped on the battlefield for so long when his wyvern hadn’t, and he didn’t know how long that miracle would last. He could see the growing exhaustion in the dark circles on Marianne’s face, too.</p>
<p>Marianne didn’t turn from Egg to answer. Part of that was just good practice, it was dangerous to take your eyes off a wyvern within biting distance. Another part was just her natural aversion to eye-contact, which Claude had grown plenty used to. Some of the more traditionalist nobles kept insisting that such behavior was disrespectful, but he could usually sic Lorenz on them with one of his incessant lectures to get them to drop the matter. </p>
<p>Claude did wish she would speak up more. Even with the stables empty except for the two of them, he still had to strain to hear her. “We think she is going to survive now. But,” Marianne hesitated, pulling her hand back and clasping it over her heart, “The landing, and the wyvern that had her trapped, it did a lot of damage to her lower body. I hope it’s just her legs that were broken, but I fear she may have spinal damage. It’s possible she’ll be paralyzed for life.” Her eyes had long since dropped to the dirt, her tone of voice silently stating that it was her fault for not doing her job well enough.</p>
<p>Claude padded over to rest a hand on her shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. Just because he didn’t think he was the most empathetic person didn’t mean he didn’t want to give the world to the people he cared about. He just wished he was a little better at it. “Hey, Marianne. You’ve kept her alive. That’s more than what her own allies were willing to do.” He gave a half-smile that Marianne finally raised her eyes to see. “And it’s Bernadetta. If there’s anyone who can make for herself a happy life in the face of something like that, it would be her.”</p>
<p>Marianne gave a half hearted shrug and mumbled, “I didn’t know her very well in school.”</p>
<p>“Just trust me on this. I’d guess she’s tougher than you’d expect,” Claude said, patting her back. “But do you really have time for this? You deserve a nap, and I’d rather you take one if you need it.”</p>
<p>Marianne shook her head with an energy that caught Claude off guard, her response even seeming to startle herself. “No! No,” she wrung her hands together, looking as determined as a perpetually solemn person could look. “I would really like to join you. I want to,” she started to trail off, but Claude could guess her answer. </p>
<p>“You want to know what happened too.” Marianne nodded, and Claude began to lead her from the stables and towards their main base. That base being Garreg Mach, of all things. It had been a bit of a gamble, sticking themselves so close to the Adrestrian border. But it had worked out so far, it was easier to defend than just about anywhere else they could have picked, and it exhausted fewer resources when they went off to battle than it would have from a base in Alliance territory.</p>
<p>And it had dungeons, which had turned out to be unexpectedly useful. Why his old school had dungeons, that he didn’t want to think about. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude heard the screaming before he saw the source, but was intuitive enough to pull Marianne to the side as they turned the corner, narrowly avoiding barrelling directly into Lorenz. Before Claude had the chance to question why Lorenz’s blubbering could be heard from down the hall, he was already having a hand thrown in front of his face.</p>
<p>“He <em>bit</em> me!”</p>
<p>Claude blinked. First, he focused on Lorenz’s index finger which was, indeed, growing swollen with deep red and purple divots in the skin that resembled a particularly ruthless bite wound. Then he focused on the handful of his other friends bringing up the rear, with their combined expressions of stunned, exasperated, and holding back laughter.</p>
<p>Claude settled on laughter. Because fuck it. Presumably, the Prince of Faerghus just bit Lorenz, and that was objectively hilarious. </p>
<p>Lorenz sputtered, waving his hand with more vigor as if Claude hadn’t seen it before, “This is not funny, Claude!”</p>
<p>“It’s a little bit funny.” Lorenz’s scowl deepened and Claude rolled his eyes. “You guys were supposed to wait for me and Marianne anyways! Did all four of you go in at once?”</p>
<p>Leonie shrugged, looking remarkably better only a couple days after her death drop on the battlefield. She had an iron lance resting on her shoulder, one to match Ignatz’s, who was standing bashfully to her side. “Lysithea was really insistent that she had figured out whatever magic stuff was keeping that muzzle locked on him.”</p>
<p>Lysithea puffed from behind Lorenz, arm’s folded and indignant. “You were being too slow. I wasn’t gonna just stand around until you decided you’d show up. And for the record, I was totally right, and now he’s free to,” she paused, face scrunched up in a little bit of thought. “To bite Lorenz, I guess. He didn’t seem all that interested in talking.”</p>
<p>Claude debated making a jab at Lysithea’s childish impatience while she was arguing her piece, before deciding against it. Though he didn’t have the full story from her, he’d gotten the idea in the past few days that Lysithea had claimed this situation as a personal cause to champion. Mostly that meant non-stop harassment on how to help him, ideas that Claude hadn’t exactly had time to come up with. </p>
<p>Hence why his first task for her was to figure out how to get rid of Dimitri’s muzzle. He had tried back when they’d first arrived in camp, while he was still safely unconscious, only to find there was some sort of dark, vaguely Hubert-y magic keeping it locked. It made sense, when one took more than a second to consider that if Dimitri had the strength to bend steel lances, he could probably break a normal lock. And it meant Lysithea now had something to do, and in true Lysithea fashion, she had done it way quicker than he ever would have anticipated.</p>
<p>“That’s great Lys, but uh,” Claude droned, trying to get his thoughts in order, “why was Lorenz in biting range?”</p>
<p>“Well, when I got the seal removed, we kinda just figured he’d take it off himself,” Lysithea answered.</p>
<p>“Aren’t his wrists all magically chained up?” Claude asked, knowing full well they were. As much as he didn’t want to treat Dimitri as a prisoner, the last time they’d interacted he was trying to impale Claude with Areadbhar. Until he could be sure there would be no impaling, Dimitri didn’t get hands.</p>
<p>“Well he could at least reach his face, but he didn’t move at all,” Lysithea huffed. “So Lorenz insisted on helping.”</p>
<p>Lorenz, who had spent the whole conversation whimpering, finally spoke back up. “How was I supposed to know he would assault me! He had hardly moved a muscle, let alone said anything to warn me!” Lorenz gestured wildly, now paying no mind to his rapidly swelling finger. “A noble—a prince, no less!—would never dare to do something so crass!”</p>
<p>Claude just rolled his eyes. Biting was admittedly a bit unexpected, but did Lorenz genuinely think the man who had spent the last two days almost motionless on the floor of a cell would give a damn about noble etiquette? Sure, maybe Claude had been the only one to see Dimitri really lose it on the battlefield all those years ago, but he knew for a fact he was not the only one here with common sense. </p>
<p>Leonie piped up, mostly to interrupt Lorenz’s ranting. “It was actually a pretty ballsy move to be honest. Ignatz and I had lances right in his face and he still went for it.” She tried to say it seriously, but Claude could see the hint of a smirk at the corners of her mouth. Ignatz was doing a poor job of hiding a smile behind his fist, from where he hovered a bit behind her. </p>
<p>Claude wasn’t sure if his friends were a greater source of comedy or anxiety at this point. </p>
<p>“Alright, well, at least he’ll be able to eat now,” Claude said. “Lorenz, go on to the infirmary and get your wittle finger patched up. I don’t need you antagonizing our guest any more than you already have. I’d probably bite you too, all things considered.” He glanced at the rest of his companions, flashing them an exasperated smile. “I think we’ll be fine, if you guys want to get out of here.</p>
<p>“I should not have to take this,” Lorenz muttered under his breath, brushing past Claude. Ignatz offered a sympathetic shrug and followed, Leonie on his heels. Marianne gave them a small wave, remaining quiet in her spot at Claude’s back. </p>
<p>“I think I’ll stick around, actually,” Lysithea said, making no move to leave. “You’ll probably want someone keeping an eye on things. Stop any more finger bitings, or whatever.” She folded her arms over her chest and glanced away, a poor show of hiding her thoughts. But she was responsible, and admittedly an excellent choice for a guard, so Claude didn’t argue with her. He understood, anyways. If he was dying of curiosity to find out what had happened, Lysithea had that much more riding on a meeting. </p>
<p>Claude shrugged, and glanced back at Marianne, whose gaze had now grown fixed on the door to the dungeon area. “The more the merrier. Lysithea, you can stand guard outside the uh,” Claude hesitated, his smile wobbling a little. He really, really didn’t want to call it a cell. “Outside the door.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” she said, watching as Claude brushed past her and moved to open the door after an imperceptible moment of hesitation. </p>
<p>The dungeons were dark. As one would expect dungeons to be, really. They hadn’t had a lot of time to clean them up, either, which Claude cursed as he flicked cobwebs out of his face. It was a miracle Dimitri had stayed unconscious long enough to get him to Garreg Mach, he hadn’t wanted to push his luck wasting time to make the place pretty for him. It was all they could do to clear out one of the larger rooms of dirt and muck, and light up the nearby braziers. The pitiful orange glow that flickered from them only managed to make the area creepier, but it’s what they had to work with. Maybe the drab, miserable air of the place would make for a good incentive to be cooperative. For someone he’d met wearing an actual muzzle, Claude would prefer to treat Dimitri like an actual human being. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, it sounded like that wasn’t exactly what Dimitri himself had in mind. </p>
<p>Marianne breathed out the tiniest ‘oh,’ as the three of them came to a rest in front of Dimitri’s cell. The bars were only close enough to assure no one could slip through them, leaving them an only slightly obstructed view of the bundle of blue and black curled in the corner. They hadn’t had much of a choice around leaving Dimitri in his armor, but something in Claude had ached seeing him swathed in an imperial red cloak. Blue was a bit on the nose, but it was the color blanket he’d been able to find to replace it. What mattered was it gave him a bit of warmth to counter the stoney floor. </p>
<p>His wrists tugged at the chains binding him to the nearby wall before he even looked up through that curtain of white hair. It turned out all the restraints in the dungeons suppressed Crests. Convenient, but also another thing to add to Claude’s list of ‘freaky shit to interrogate Rhea about if he ever manages to see her again’. He had scrounged up a set of chains that would give Dimitri enough room to stand and pace a few feet around, but Claude was fairly certain Dimitri was stuck in the same corner he’d initially left him slumped against. </p>
<p>Claude cleared his throat, as if he needed to announce his presence any more. “It’s good to see you awake,” he said. “Apologies for Lorenz and the others, they weren’t supposed to visit without me. I wouldn’t want them up in my personal space either, so no hard feelings. At least from me.” He would’ve offered his standard meaningless smile, but Dimitri hadn’t bothered to look up yet. </p>
<p>“Anyways,” he continued, “We were just hoping you’d be up for a little chat. I’m sure you can imagine we’re all a little surprised to see you, and we just want to know what’s happened since,” Claude hesitated. “Since we were all separated. Right?” He glanced back to see Lysithea and Marianne nodding along with him. When he dropped his gaze back down to Dimitri, a glazed eye was peering back at him. “Are you up for that?”</p>
<p>As Claude kind of expected, there was no verbal response. Dimitri blinked at him slowly. He knew he had to be able to understand them, but moments like this shook that confidence. </p>
<p>“Marianne and I are just gonna walk in and sit down with you, alright?” Claude pressed a light hand to Marianne’s back, urging her a couple steps forward. “We’re unarmed, see? I figured we could all just have a nice, peaceful catch-up.” Claude gestured to his belt, which missed any hints of a dagger handle or other weapon. </p>
<p>Of course, that was a lie. There was one in his boot. And mages like Marianne and Lysithea could be armed to the teeth without a single blade on them. But he could justify a white lie if the illusion kept Dimitri, someone who could snap them all in half like twigs with his bare hands, calm. He only had so much faith in those chains, Crest suppression or no. </p>
<p>Claude plucked a key ring from the nearby wall, securing the only key that had any sign of recent use on it, and jiggled it into the lock. It took throwing some weight into the door to get its rusted hinges to function, the door swinging open with a low groan. He kept an eye on Dimitri the whole while, looking for any sudden movements, listening for any hint of sound. That one eye locked on him the whole time, and it was terribly unnerving. Not even intimidating, Claude would say. It just felt like something was deeply off.</p>
<p>Claude ushered Marianne in after him, and with a nod to Lysithea, their impromptu guard closed the door and locked it behind them. There was no real sitting space aside from an unused cot that was a little too close to Dimitri for Claude’s comfort. At least for the time being. Marianne was unfazed by the issue, settling to a spot on the hard stone just outside the reach of Dimitri’s chains, her skirt bunched up around her legs. She kept her eyes down, her long blue lashes drooping down to match the slight angle of her head. Claude couldn’t quite guess if she was purposefully making herself unimposing, or if that was just a reflection of her usual state. Either way, her presence hadn’t yet elicited a bad reaction from Dimitri, so Claude followed suit and sat himself next to her.</p>
<p>And they sat in silence. </p>
<p>For all Claude considered himself an excellent speaker, and for all the accusations of a silver tongue he’d gotten over the years, he was at a bit of a loss in this situation. How do you start a conversation like that? “What’s the weather like in Enbarr, Dimitri?” “What’s your traitorous ex-professor been up to lately?” “The white hair is a good look for you, what’s up with that?” Claude frowned slightly. He’d hoped this would come naturally, but now he was regretting not having a better script in mind. </p>
<p>“I guess I should explain first,” Claude tried, parsing his words carefully, “your situation. That being I really don’t want you stuck in here. You’re not really a prisoner, but I mean, you did try to stab me a few times. You can understand our situation, right?”</p>
<p>No response. Come on Dimitri, he needed something to work with. Claude didn’t want to spend this whole time monologuing. </p>
<p>“If you cooperate with us, I’d love to be able to put you up in a room. And when I say cooperate, I don’t necessarily mean fighting for us, or being a spy or anything,” Claude amended, raising his hands in a show of defense. “I just mean you can’t do things like, you know, biting Lorenz. No matter how much he deserves it. If you can manage that, we can get you out of here, get you cleaned up.”</p>
<p>Claude tried not to let the frustration seep into his expression. It was like talking to the brick wall behind him. Maybe launching into a negotiation was the wrong move, but wouldn’t he want to get out of there as soon as possible?</p>
<p>“You’re in Garreg Mach, Dimitri,” Marianne said suddenly, her voice as gentle as it had been on Gronder Field. “It’s being occupied by the Alliance. It’s safe here.” A thin smile was on her face, eyes still kept low.</p>
<p>And that got a reaction. Nothing verbal, but Dimitri’s eyes flicked away from Claude and jumped around the walls of the cell. A flash of clarity passed through his blank expression. Good, that at least meant Dimitri was cognizant. Claude knew bringing Marianne along was a good idea. </p>
<p>Marianne seemed to agree, and to Claude’s surprise took the reigns of their one-sided conversation. “Do you want to talk?”</p>
<p>There was a long pause, and Claude was about to chip in with his own questions when he saw Dimitri move, just a touch, his eye now resting on Marianne. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.</p>
<p>“That’s okay,” Marianne responded. “You don’t have to speak. May we still ask you questions? You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>A beat, and then a twitch of his head up and down. A nod.</p>
<p>Marianne’s smile grew, and she hesitantly raised her eyes to meet Dimitri’s. “Thank you, Dimitri. Are you a little frightened to talk to us?”</p>
<p>Another nod, and Marianne nodded in turn. Claude marvelled at how relaxed Marianne was, how naturally this was coming to her while he floundered. But he was getting information now, simplistic as it was, and that was more important than his bruised ego. It was hard for Claude to grapple with an image of Dimitri scared into complete silence, but it made sense. He was strung up like a prisoner of war, and for all he knew Claude’s ‘chat’ meant torturing him for information about the Empire or something. It was wholly possible he’d been threatened into keeping quiet if he got captured.</p>
<p>If anything, he was just overwhelmed, and Claude’s immediate barrage of questions had been too much. Noted.</p>
<p>“I’d be scared too. I promise we won’t hurt you. Do you want to stay here for now?” Marianne patted the floor under her as if it was a comfortable couch. She got another nod yes. “Then we could make it more comfortable for you.” Marianne glanced back at Claude, more of her usual worry in her eyes, as if she was overstepping somehow.  </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Claude said, taking over again. Yes or no questions, he just needed to stick to those. Simple stuff. “We can bring you some better blankets and a change of clothes and stuff. And you’re probably hungry, right?” He hadn’t really expected Dimitri to want to stay in a dungeon cell of all things, but if he did there was no reason they couldn’t try to make him comfortable for the time being.</p>
<p>He was happy to receive his own nod, although it came more hesitantly than the others. Dimitri’s gaze rested more apprehensively on Claude than it did on Marianne. Claude wasn’t sure what to do about that, aside from what he always did. He laughed it off. “I promise it won’t be poisoned, I grew out of that stuff.”</p>
<p>A sharp huff from Claude’s left drew his attention, Lysithea glaring down at him from where she was leaning up against the bars. “This is going nowhere Claude, get to the important stuff.”</p>
<p>Marianne glanced over, wringing her hands as her natural nervousness settled back into her voice. “Uhm, perhaps we should wait on that. It’s not good to force things.”</p>
<p>“We don’t have time to just wait around for him to talk!” she snapped back, and Claude could hear the sound of chains rattling as Dimitri jerked back into the corner. He glanced back to see him now transfixed on Lysithea. He was cowering more than he had been, curling in more on the bulk Claude was fairly certain he didn’t remember teenage Dimitri having, but there was a clarity in his eye that hadn’t been there before. Like a realization had crossed his mind. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Claude said, keeping his voice soft, “Don’t mind her. It’s just Lysithea, you remember her. All bark and no bite, right?” He grinned, and he could feel the seething coming from outside the bars, but her pride wasn’t really the important thing here. “She’s just curious. You two share a similarity we’re all wondering about. Can you talk about—”<br/>
His question was drowned out by the slam of Lysithea’s hands against metal, leaning in as far as the bars would allow her small body to slip. Her voice wavered as she interrupted him, but it was still a hiss dripping with anger that was finally spilling over. </p>
<p>“Tell us who put that second crest in you and we’ll destroy them.”</p>
<p>Marianne reacted the most noticeably, her eyes widening and her hand pressing to her mouth as if she could hide her expression. All Claude could do was sigh, while Lysithea glared down at Dimitri with determined fervor, as if she could scare him into divulging everything. They’d all had their guesses, he’d had more than one theory. He’d been fairly certain he’d seen more than just the effects of the Crest of Charon activate in battle, so this didn’t even so much come as a surprise. He’d have to sit Lysithea down with the rest of the deer later and have her explain everything properly, whether she’d like it or not. </p>
<p>“Dimitri, come <em>on</em>,” Lysithea demanded, gripping the bars and turning her knuckles white. Dimitri stared back. Claude realized the lack of any real emotion on his face was more unsettling than the silence. “Just tell me who did it! Use your damn words! Tell us who did it and we can stop it from happening again!” </p>
<p>“Lysithea, please,” Marianne warbled, “This might be too difficult a conversation right now, maybe in a couple days we could—”</p>
<p>“—What if we don’t have a couple days!” she snapped. “I don’t give a shit if it’s difficult, I know it’s difficult and he needs to suck it up!” Turning back on Dimitri, she snarled, “You have a chance to save someone and all you have to do is answer me! Weren’t you all about protecting the innocent or something, and now you’re just gonna sit there and cower?! Cower and bite people and act like a damn animal you, you— You fucking boar!”</p>
<p>“Lysithea!” Claude snapped back, quickly rising to his feet. “Marianne, we’re done here, I’m sorry. Lysithea, unlock the door.” He glanced back between Marianne, hesitantly pushing herself up off the ground, and Dimitri, still motionless in his corner. For a moment he wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to. “If you could, would you bring him something from the dining hall? I’ll take care of bringing the change of clothes later.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she said, looking back at Dimitri as she backed reluctantly towards the door. She was chewing on her bottom lip, uncertainty in her face. “I’ll bring you something to eat Dimitri, is that okay?”</p>
<p>Claude didn’t bother to look for his answer, snatching the keys from Lysithea and locking it shut once Marianne had been ushered through. Though, he honestly didn’t have any concerns about Dimitri attempting to escape. He hung the dungeon’s keyring on a nearby hook, sparing one last look back in the cell before grabbing Lysithea’s sleeve and shoving her forward. He thought he could feel Dimitri’s eye on them even as they passed out of his sight, and he desperately wished he could figure out what that eye wanted from him. </p>
<p>“Spent too much time around Felix, huh,” Claude muttered as they stepped out from underground, the light of dusk filtering in through windows above them. </p>
<p>“Shut up, Claude. Maybe he’d been right,” Lysithea said, stalking off down the hall. “If your fucking war prize won’t help, I’ll figure it out on my own!”</p>
<p>“Figure out what, Lysithea?! Maybe you could start by finally telling us what’s going on, huh?” he shouted back, gesturing broadly. “You haven’t done much talking either!”</p>
<p>“I bet you’ve already figured it all out haven’t you, smart-ass?!” She wheeled around to face Claude, only to walk backwards into someone rounding the corner.</p>
<p>“Oh-! Sorry Lysi—”</p>
<p>“Get out of my way, dumbass,” she spat, pushing past a bewildered Ignatz.</p>
<p>“I actually haven’t, shocking I know!” Claude cried out after her, laughing bitterly. “And you should still watch your language young lady!” When a distant retort never came, Claude let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He never liked when his plans derailed, and he especially didn’t like it when it was someone else’s fault. Of course, he’d agreed to let Lysithea stick around. Because he was an idiot. Fuck.</p>
<p>“Claude?”</p>
<p>Not now, he wanted to say. Instead he dropped his hand and plastered on a smile even he felt was unconvincing. But Ignatz deserved some kind of kindness, as did Marianne standing warily behind him. “Yeah, Ignatz, what’s up?”</p>
<p>“Uh, well,” he started, shifting on his feet and glancing at dungeon doors that had swung back shut. “I know you’re probably really busy but something really important just came up. That is we, uh, we have a visitor.”</p>
<p>“A visitor?” Claude frowned, turning back. “Marianne, don’t wait for me, you can go ahead and get that meal ready. We probably shouldn’t leave him starving any longer.”</p>
<p>She nodded, bunching up her fists in a small show of determination. “I’ll do my best to make sure he eats.”</p>
<p>He smiled, a little more naturally that time around. “I know you will. You did a better job than any of us. A real natural, I always knew you were a people person.” He chuckled softly, and Marianne looked to be trying to bite back an embarrassed smile. Instead, she ducked her head and shuffled off towards the dining hall. Once she disappeared down the corner, he started off in the direction Ignatz had scrambled in from, motioning for the young man to follow. “So, a visitor. Who is it?”</p>
<p>Ignatz swallowed, visible confusion settling on his face. </p>
<p>“It’s Linhardt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do I have to be your bodyguard? It’s Linhardt. Are you seriously worried about the world’s sleepiest book nerd?” Hilda whined, following Claude to the library. From Ignatz’s explanation, this was an unconventional visit. As such, he picked an unconventional meeting room, and one that would hopefully relax the both of them. Ignatz had graciously run off and got things prepared while he hunted down his retainer.</p>
<p>What the meeting was for was still technically a mystery, one bouncing a million miles a minute in his head with a few obvious ideas sticking out. And since there was no way to guarantee a peaceful visit, he had Hilda. Whether Hilda wanted to be there or not. Which she didn’t. </p>
<p>“Heeey,” she drawled. “Are you ignoring me on purpose or are you stuck in your own head again?”</p>
<p>“Let’s say a little bit of both,” Claude chuckled, keeping his tone light and airy and masterfully fake. “But yes, I’m still going to be a little cautious about an enemy general rocking up for a fireside chat. I know, I know, I’m just so paranoid.” He opened the library door, the old thing creaking on its hinges.</p>
<p>And inside, sure enough, was a Linhardt. An awake one, to Claude’s genuine shock.</p>
<p>He hadn’t seemed to notice, or care to notice, Claude’s entrance. He was aimlessly leafing through a book he must have plucked from one of the shelves, cheek resting lazily against his hand. He didn’t look that different than he had five years ago, Claude mused, only now getting a chance to see the healer up close and not on the backlines of a battlefield. His jaw had sharpened a bit and his striking green hair was longer, tied up into a messy bun. But it was the same handsome young man Claude had attended the academy with. It was a damn shame they’d landed on the wrong sides of the war now. He’d always thought Linhardt would have been a better fit for the more free-wheeling Golden Deer. That, and Claude had a soft spot for smart, pretty boys. </p>
<p>“So this is a surprise, Linhardt,” Claude said, leaning up against the back of the chair opposite his visitor. At that, Linhardt finally raised his gaze and shut his book. “Normally when we get visitors from Adrestria, they come with an army following them.”</p>
<p>Linhardt leaned back in his chair and yawned, pushing some stray hairs out of his face from where they’d tumbled out of his bun. “Sorry. Forgot mine at home.”</p>
<p>Claude clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “How irresponsible. That Empress of yours is going to be awfully cross with you.” He pulled out the chair with a sharp squeak of its legs against the floorboards, setting himself down while Hilda leaned up against the bookshelf behind them. As unimposing as she was, the hefty axe she’d dragged in with her was enough of a threat.</p>
<p>“That Empress doesn’t know I’m here,” Linhardt replied. “For now, I guess.”</p>
<p>Interesting.</p>
<p>Claude raised an eyebrow, cupping his face in his palms and leaning his elbows on the table. “Oh? And what business do you have with lil’ ol’ me that big scary Edelgard doesn’t get to know about?”</p>
<p>Linhardt sighed, slumping further in his seat as if he didn’t have the energy to answer. Or he was postponing it. Claude never really figured out if Linhardt was clever or just impressively lazy. Or both. “Right to it, then. Not even going to offer tea.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, Lorenz won’t let me near where they keep the tea. He thinks I’ll ruin it with my sheer presence. I’m very talented that way.” Claude kept his good natured grin right in place, although he did regret not having tea. The caffeine would have been nice, he was exhausted.</p>
<p>“You stole our soldier.”</p>
<p>“Stole?” Claude pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “How rude. I rescued her from a burning fort! I’m practically a hero. If you’d like to visit Bernadetta, she’s in the infirmary. But I think she still needs some more rest, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Linhardt rolled his eyes. “Do you want to know what happened to Dimitri or not.”</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>that</em> one,” Claude feigned surprise, tapping his cheek in thought. “So you lot were trying to make him into a soldier after all.”</p>
<p>“I guess they consider him more of a weapon than a soldier,” Linhardt shrugged. “Soldier sounded nicer.”</p>
<p>“True, true, weapons wouldn’t need to talk after all. But why exactly are you here to explain in his place, Linhardt? Y’know, behind Edelgard’s back, all alone at the enemy’s base. And why would you know anything in the first place?” Claude leaned back, gesturing vaguely. “Forgive me for not being trusting. When people have groundbreaking secret info, they usually send some kind of ominous missive and demand something in return, and I’d rather not stumble into a trap, you get me?”</p>
<p>“I was involved in the experiments on him.” Linhardt stated it so bluntly, Claude almost let the surprise show on his face. “And I’m here because Caspar found that out.”</p>
<p>Claude’s brow scrunched up, and he waited for Linhardt to elaborate. He didn’t want to admit he didn’t really follow. </p>
<p>Linhardt sighed again, folding his arms on the table and propping his chin on top of them. No sense of poise with this one, as he slouched over onto the table and told his piece. “He’d been kept a secret from most of the top generals, up until we went to Gronder. Everyone’d been fed the same execution story, so people were shocked. I guess I didn’t act shocked enough. After the battle, Caspar wouldn’t stop pestering me with questions until I gave up and told him.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“He was furious. Most folks were, just not at me specifically. Edelgard’s been pulling moves we haven’t been completely comfortable with since the war started. Secretly imprisoning an old classmate and forcing him to fight for us was a bit of a breaking point for some people. It won’t change anything, no one has the power to turn on her or do anything about it.”</p>
<p>“Is this you doing something about it?” Claude asked. “Here to clear your conscience?”</p>
<p>“Something like that. I never really wanted to fight for her anyways. I just knew trying to fight against her was a death sentence waiting to happen. As for the experiments, I was forced into working with them. I figured that was enough to help me sleep at night. And it was, for a while.” Linhardt shut his eyes, cocking his head and speaking as if this was nothing more than academy gossip. “But you remember Caspar. He’s too earnest for his own good and it can get in your head. And as annoying as he is, I’d like to be able to talk to him again. If I survive doing this, that is.”</p>
<p>Claude frowned. “You’re going back? You’re risking getting caught for treason, just for meeting with me, let alone the subject matter.”</p>
<p>“I have a habit of disappearing days for research, they’re used to it. I even have a mage who’s used to warping me places if I slip her some gold every now and again. The sooner I get back the less suspicious it is. If I stayed, Hubert would probably send someone to assassinate me. And I’m not giving up my outdoor naps for that.”</p>
<p>It was a lame excuse, but Claude could read between the lines. Enemy or not, if Linhardt was willing to go behind Edelgard’s back for nothing in return but an ease of conscience, he was reluctant to let the man walk back into near-certain imprisonment or death. But he had people back home. In a time like this, any self-serving action was bound to end badly for someone else you cared about. And Linhardt seemed to have had a front-row seat in seeing how bad his superiors could get. </p>
<p>The best Claude could do for him was make his gamble worthwhile. </p>
<p>“What can you tell me about Dimitri, then?”</p>
<p>“Not as much as you’d like,” Linhardt admitted. “They brought me on because of my crest research, but I was mostly just in charge of keeping him alive through everything. They wouldn’t let me see what my research was being used for.”</p>
<p>“Who’s ‘they’?”</p>
<p>“I’m not completely sure, they wouldn’t talk to me much, only Hubert and Edelgard. But I’m pretty sure they’re connected to the same group that were involved in Flayn’s kidnapping and Tomas’s impersonation. And it sounded like crest experiments weren’t a new concept to them. Looking at Edelgard and Lysithea in retrospect, I can guess that’s true.”</p>
<p>Claude nodded. With as little concrete information as Linhardt had, he’d lucked out in getting a very perceptive informant. “Lysithea said he probably had a second crest put in him.”</p>
<p>“Yup,” Linhardt confirmed. “Before you ask, I don’t know which one. I wasn’t allowed in any rooms where they were testing crest activation, I just showed up whenever something backfired to fix him up. Or fix someone else up, if he got a hold of them.”</p>
<p>Damn. Well, hopefully that was something he could eventually get out of Dimitri himself, if he even knew. “We’re having trouble getting him to talk. Do you know if magic was involved or if he’s just been threatened into keeping quiet?”</p>
<p>Linhardt shook his head. “Maybe a bit of the latter, but he stopped speaking a long time ago. He’d been a bit more talkative when I first saw him. But after a year or two of that torture he changed. It went from anger and threats, to questions, to pleading, and then nothing at all.”</p>
<p>Claude’s stomach made a sharp twist. “Torture?”</p>
<p>“Not in the typical sense, although there was some of that. In secret, I think. Hubert had a grudge against him for whatever history he had with Edelgard, and I’d get called in to clean him up after Hubert was through with him. But mostly it was the experiments. I think they might have been trying to do something to his existing crest first, given it’s one of the most powerful ones out there. Forcing him into testing its limits. They trapped him in a room with a starving wyvern once, just to see if his crest could break through wyvern scales. It can, by the way. But I spent a while healing him after that.”</p>
<p>Claude grimaced, trying not to imagine the scene. He also tried not to imagine that strength used on one of his people. Maybe keeping in the cell for the time being was a good idea. “How did you all manage to get control of him in the first place?”</p>
<p>Linhardt let out a small sigh. “The Professor. And no,” he added before Claude could interject, “I don’t know anything about why he betrayed you guys. To be honest I don’t know much about any war plans, Edelgard doesn’t trust us with that kind of stuff. Probably because she plans shit like this.”</p>
<p>“Teach? How? Has he been threatening him?”</p>
<p>“Not that I could tell. In fact, Professor was the only person I ever heard Dimitri talk to ever since he went silent.”</p>
<p>“You’re telling me Dimitri still trusts him?”</p>
<p>He shrugged. “I’m not a psychiatrist, so don’t take my word for it. But I think he’s just desperate to hold on to the one person he still thinks he can trust. And Professor knows it. He would come in after I was done treating him and just sit with him, talk with him. He’d bring fresh clothes, or books, or extra food with him. It,” Linhardt frowned, a show of real concern in his eyes. “It seemed fine, at first. I guess I was just glad someone he liked was showing him a bit of kindness. But,” he trailed off.</p>
<p>“But?”</p>
<p>“After a while it started to feel like the Professor was visiting a sick pet, not a person.”</p>
<p>They both stayed silent for a moment, letting the thought hang heavy in the air. Claude could hear Hilda shift uncomfortably behind him. His mind returned to that forest, hearing the crack of Byleth’s sword that launched Dimitri into a frenzy. The way he froze whenever he wasn’t sure whether to fight or run without any guidance to do so. The fact Byleth had been with him, and not with Edelgard.</p>
<p>Teach wasn’t threatening him to become an Imperial soldier, he was training him to be an attack dog. </p>
<p>Claude pinched the bridge of his nose, his sigh coming out in wavered breaths. “This is disgusting.”</p>
<p>“Yup,” Linhardt muttered. “It was probably for the best you managed to capture him. I’d like to know how, though.”</p>
<p>“He did almost manage to kill me,” Claude admitted. “But maybe Miss Empress overestimated how well her ‘weapon’ would work. He kept freezing up. Although I can’t say exactly why.” Claude forced a thin, cold smile to his face. “Maybe recognizing the face you’re about to slaughter slows you down.”</p>
<p>Linhardt grunted a soft agreement. “Dunno why Professor wasn’t with him.”</p>
<p>“He was.”</p>
<p>Linhardt’s eyes popped up from where they’d been drooping to the ground with a confused twitch of his brow. “Why are you not dead then?”</p>
<p>“I thought I could ask you the same question,” Claude said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “He’d been there, I think to try and order Dimitri into attacking me. But he himself didn’t get involved, not even when the rest of the Golden Deer managed to come back and incapacitate him.” He shook his head, trying to process his memory of the situation. “And I swear I saw him, right before me and Dimitri were warped off the field. He just stood and watched. And I don’t have a damn clue why.”</p>
<p>“He’s crazy,” Linhardt responded, pushing himself up off his arms and slumping back into his chair. “I don’t know who’s side he’s on at this point. Maybe he’s just trying to side with whoever he thinks will win, and he’s decided it’s you guys now.” He shrugged, gesturing to nothing. “Maybe he’s just in it to cause chaos. If I had the blessing of the goddess or whatever, I’d do whatever I wanted to, too.”</p>
<p>“Glad to see you haven’t changed so much, Linhardt,” Claude chuckled dryly. “Is that all the information you have to share?”</p>
<p>“Oh, there’s one last thing,” he said, closing his eyes. “Just something I overheard about crest experiments. Might be something you should check with Lysithea about.”</p>
<p>“I’m all ears.”</p>
<p>“Human bodies aren’t meant to handle the power of two crests. Some of them can barely handle the power of one, which is why there’s been research trying to figure out how to remove them. You might want to look into that.”</p>
<p>The suggestion made Claude’s stomach sink. “You mean that second crest is going to end up killing him.”</p>
<p>“Not just him,” Linhardt muttered. “Like I said, you should really talk to Lysithea. Sooner rather than later.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claude did talk to Lysithea, after ending the evening sharing a meal with his unexpected informant and seeing Linhardt on his way. He’d tried to get him to stay the night at least, but Linhardt insisted it would be better if someone aligned with Adrestia saw him before the day was out. Disappearing to sleep for the day and showing up randomly at night was par for the course, according to him. Linhardt had promised to try and stay in contact with him, even do a bit of research on the side that might be able to help him. So Claude let his new spy go, and gathered his own little herd to share what he’d learned.</p>
<p>Learning that Lysithea was very possibly going to die young explained a lot of things. A part of him even wanted to apologize for snapping at her impatience earlier, but she’d beaten him to it. She grudgingly came up to him after everything and mumbled out a sorry for being ‘immature’, which Claude was smart enough to accept without any snark. It wasn’t like he didn’t want her help with this situation, anyways. And now they could all dive head first into figuring out the real identity of this shady group that had destroyed the lives of two people Claude cared about. </p>
<p>Well, three, he supposed. But that only brought further confusion if Edelgard’s look wasn’t just a bad case of going grey early. Why on earth would she work with a group that put her through painful experiments like Linhardt described, a group that possibly cut her lifespan in half. And was she that desperate to win that she’d let that all happen to a—</p>
<p>—Well, maybe she never considered him and Dimitri friends. Maybe Dimitri never considered him and Edelgard friends. That thought hurt a little bit more, and Claude didn’t want to think about it too hard. But why? Was Edelgard that far gone to hurt someone who just seemed to want, what? Peace? A little bit of justice and reason in the world? </p>
<p>Claude shook his head to himself, turning the corner and adjusting the bundle in his arms with a hand not busy clasping a small mug. He always thought Dimitri might’ve been a bit overzealous, a lot naive, and as a leader he never seemed completely comfortable in the role. Relatable. He still took to it with more, let’s say respect, than Claude did in the Academy. But he always seemed as tired and lonely as he was determined to do something right by people. Even if that was just chastising Claude for poisoning Lorenz’s lunch again. </p>
<p>He’d been kind. Kinder than most nobles he’d met, let alone someone with the power to probably have someone’s head lopped off if he wanted. Maybe people thought that was a liability, he knew Faerghus well enough to figure people wouldn’t be satisfied with a gentle king. But he would have been a good one. And Claude had looked forward to a day where they could have worked together to bring some good to this trash fire of a continent. Hell, he’d always regretted not trying to get closer during their school days.</p>
<p>Maybe he had that chance again? Maybe. Who knew. Maybe he was just setting himself up for more regrets. </p>
<p>Claude took a breath and pushed his way down into the dungeons again. </p>
<p>It was just as dark as before, but as the sun had set, the night chill had seeped down into the monastery. With little but the lit braziers for heat, he felt a shiver creep down his spine. Maybe he should have found something thicker for Dimitri. Just because he was from a frozen wasteland didn’t mean he needed to freeze without complaint. </p>
<p>At least Marianne had gotten him to eat. She’d told him so with just the slightest bit of pride on her face. No conversation, still, but if it meant Dimitri trusted them enough to eat their food, that was something. Or maybe he was just starving so badly he didn’t care. It was hard to be positive, but he wasn’t going to crush Marianne over it. He’d thanked her profusely, and she’d happily assigned herself the role of bringing Dimitri’s meals, assuring him it was still more pleasant than a crowded dining hall. </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure whether that was indicative of the experience, or Marianne’s warped appreciation for social interaction, but he figured he was about to find out. </p>
<p>“Hey, told you I’d be back,” Claude said as he came into view. He kept his tone soft and warm. He might not have been as comforting as Marianne could be, but he was damn well going to try. “And I bring gifts!”</p>
<p>Dimitri was still huddled in his corner, head propped up against the side wall. When Claude spoke, his eye popped open, taking a moment to focus. He thought there was a bit more clarity to it, a bit more color to his face. A wonder what a decent meal could do to a man. </p>
<p>Claude reached for the cell keys before thinking better of it, pausing with his fingers brushed up against the metal ring. “I guess I should ask first, huh? Do you mind if I come in for a little bit?”</p>
<p>He watched Dimitri closely, letting his question hang in the air for a moment. For as little freedom his not-quite-prisoner had, Claude wanted to offer some semblance of it back to him. And he got his answer, Dimitri slowly lifting his head off the wall and nodding it. Claude smiled back, a little bit bigger.</p>
<p>“Thanks. I promise I won’t bombard you with questions this time.” He unlocked the door, tucking the keyring in his pocket as he stepped inside. “I brought you a change of clothes, and some extra blankets, and something to drink. Marianne said she thought she remembered you liking chamomile, so that’s what I managed to sneak out. Y’know, before Lorenz noticed and lectured me on the proper way to prepare it.” He stepped into range of Dimitri’s reach, mindful of his reactions as he let the bundle of fabrics tumble onto the floor near him. He wasn’t pulling away, really reacting at all. Maybe Claude could try something.</p>
<p>“Here,” he said, kneeling down just in front of Dimitri. His eye anxiously flicked from the ground to Claude, settling on his face as he held out the mug to him. “Spring or not, it still gets cold up here at night. It’ll keep you warm.”</p>
<p>Claude honestly didn’t expect Dimitri to take it from him, he was resigned to seeing it left untouched the next morning. After several painful beats of nothing but staring, he was about to set the mug down by his side in defeat. And then he heard the gentle clicks of armor as it moved. Dimitri hesitantly reached out, and let Claude press the mug into his hands. It was a jarring juxtaposition, the image of sheer black gauntlet claws nervously gripping a cup of tea he pulled back to stare into. </p>
<p>“We really should get you out of that armor,” Claude admitted, falling back into a sitting position. He shouldn’t have felt this pleased already. Being able to hand someone tea and sit within a foot of them should not have been considered an accomplishment, and yet. He wondered if Marianne had felt the same way. “Do you even want to change? I promise there’s no reason you’d need to stay in your armor here.” </p>
<p>Dimitri looked from his mug down at himself, as if he was only just noticing he was still trapped in uncomfortable steel plates. When he met Claude’s gaze again, he only cocked his head. Not really a yes or no to go off of, so he tried again. </p>
<p>“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I mean, I didn’t really know what would fit you anyways, so I had to just grab some goofy looking nightgown sorta thing. Probably an aesthetic downgrade, so I don’t blame you. I just figure you might be making sleeping unnecessarily difficult.” He added, with a crooked little smile, “And y’know. Black armor isn’t a bad look for you, but I don’t know if the red accents really work. Looks a little out of place, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p>Again, Dimitri looked down at himself like this was a new revelation. Claude wasn’t lying, either. He’d made a terrifying figure in the black ensemble, but the little details, the red trim and the rigid design was too Adrestian for Claude’s taste. It was all hard angles and dull colors. Nothing like the cool, fur-lined kind of ensembles he’d seen on Faerghus soldiers. Something soft like that would fit him much better.</p>
<p>Why did he care so much about this. He just wanted Dimitri to be comfortable, right? Right. That was all. </p>
<p>So caught up in his thinking, he almost missed Dimitri’s tiny nod. </p>
<p>Claude blinked, half-convinced he’d imagined it. He followed Dimitri’s eyes from him, to the gown resting on the floor, and back to him, watching expectantly. </p>
<p>He recovered with a quick smile, clapping his hands lightly together. “Great! I can leave for a second if you want or, uh,” he paused, considering another reason why Dimitri may have been stuck like that. “I always heard that stuff is damn hard to get in and out of on your own. Do you need help?”</p>
<p>Dimitri’s eye widened just a bit, and flicked down to the ground where he froze there, cradling his mug for a long moment. He set it down, painstakingly careful as the porcelain clinked against the stone and his hands slid away from it, moving to clutch the edges of his chest plate. He glanced up at Claude through the long strands of hair that obscured his face and nodded.</p>
<p>Okay. Cool. Okay. </p>
<p>“Great, I can help,” Claude said, pushing himself up off the ground. He leaned in and held out a hand. “It’ll be easier if you’re not squished up in the corner. I can help you up onto the bed, if you want.” Just keep giving him choices, he thought. Show him they weren’t orders, that he wasn’t a prisoner, that Claude really did care about what he wanted, because he did. </p>
<p>He glanced at the chains hanging from Dimitri’s wrists. He wasn’t a prisoner. </p>
<p>“Actually, wait. Can you hold out your wrists for me first?” Claude dug in his pockets and procured the keyring, flicking through each one as Dimitri eyed him curiously. “You have to promise me, though, that you’re not gonna hurt anyone, or try to break out and run away. And that includes not biting people. Promise?” </p>
<p>Dimitri shook his head. Claude frowned. </p>
<p>“No? Dimitri, I don’t want to keep you chained up.” Claude was willing to take a massive risk, an uncharacteristically stupid risk, and he was saying no? “I really do trust that you’re not a threat. You just got startled earlier, didn’t you? Can’t you just promise me? Just a nod is fine.”</p>
<p>Dimitri shut his eye and shook his head harder, enough that his hair whipped up against his cheeks. It was more sure than any of his earlier answers. Claude pocketed the keyring with a small sigh, holding out his hand again. </p>
<p>“Then at least I can help you out with this, right?” Dimitri stared at Claude’s outstretched hand for a long moment. Then he rested a shaky gauntlet over his palm. Claude hoisted the man up with a grunt before he could pull his hand away, nearly toppling back over himself from the momentum once Dimitri was up on his feet. Even hunched in on himself, free arm pressed tightly to his chest, he still towered over Claude.</p>
<p>“When did you get so tall, that’s not even fair,” Claude laughed, slowly guiding Dimitri over a few steps to his cot. “Over here, sit on the edge and take off whatever you can manage. Whatever’s left I’ll help with.” Once Dimitri was settled, Claude moved to give him some space. He collected up the extra blankets he’d brought with him to fold, while Dimitri sat with his hands balled up in his lap. It took him a minute, a couple anxious glances in Claude’s direction that were met with encouraging smiles, before he got up the nerve to work off anything. But by the time Claude had everything neatly folded and resting on the end of the cot, he’d managed to slip off boots, gauntlets, leg coverings, most everything except for the armor clasped to his back, all with surprising efficiency. Dimitri stared up expectantly at him as Claude sauntered back over. </p>
<p>“Ready? Alright. You managed more than I probably would have,” Claude admitted, tentatively slipping behind him and pressing a soft hand against one of the clasps. He could see Dimitri tense up, his back snapping up straight at the feeling of something behind him. “Hey, it’s alright,” Claude tried to soothe, as he fiddled with straps that were far too unintuitive for something meant to be worn. “I promised I wasn’t going to hurt you.” The last of his armor slipped off to reveal the tight black underclothes he wore underneath, and Claude rested a reassuring hand on Dimitri’s back.</p>
<p>Which was a mistake.</p>
<p>Claude didn’t react to Dimitri’s movement until he already had a hand slamming him up against the wall. His head snapped against the stone wall, making his vision swim with stars, and he yelped out in pain. One hand was balled up in Claude’s shirt so tightly he thought he heard a seam tear, the other pressing dangerously close to his neck. Claude started to scrabble for the dagger in his boot before he was released just as quickly as he’d been pinned. </p>
<p>It took him a few moments to focus through the painful pounding in his skull, Dimitri’s blurry figure stumbling off the cot and back against the far wall. Once Claude’s vision cleared again, he was met with a wide, terrified eye, falling as Dimitri sunk back to the floor, his hands grabbing fistfuls of tangled, dirty hair and pulling. </p>
<p>Goddess damn him, that hurt. Claude forced himself to the edge of the cot, rubbing the back of his head. The hit wasn’t hard enough to draw blood but he’d have a decent welt there tomorrow, not to mention a couple bruises on his chest. He wanted to be mad, but that ended up directed less at Dimitri, and more at himself for fucking everything up. </p>
<p>“Too far, huh.” Claude winced, pushing himself to his feet. He resisted the urge to walk back over to Dimitri, tug his hands away and try to calm him back down. Instead, he picked up the nightgown and began to unfold it, revealing something that had been tucked inside. “I’m sorry, buddy. And look,” he held up a free hand, ruffled his hair with it, rocked back and forth on his feet. “You didn’t hurt me that bad, so don’t worry so much.” </p>
<p>Dimitri looked unconvinced, and Claude struggled to keep his smile watching him claw at his own skin and tremble in the corner. Every time Claude made any kind of movement, he’d jump and tense. It made Claude’s heart ache. </p>
<p>“Hey, hey it was an accident, wasn’t it?” Claude whispered, slowly kneeling down to be on eye level with him. “I’m not gonna punish you over it or anything. Is that what you’re worried about?”</p>
<p>He didn’t nod, but the way Dimitri tried to shrink further into the corner was all Claude needed to see. Claude never considered himself a particularly touchy person, at least in comparison to his old classmates. But in that moment he wanted nothing more to wrap Dimitri up in his arms, find a way to convince him that no one was ever going to hurt him here. That those people were far away now. That he, and Marianne, and everyone else just wanted to keep him safe.</p>
<p>That he would find those people and send an arrow into their fucking skulls.</p>
<p>But he didn’t do that. If giving Dimitri space helped get the same idea across, then that’s what Claude was going to do. He set the nightgown on the edge of the bed and held up the old book that had been delicately wrapped up in it. The deep blue cover was worn and faded, and the pages yellowed, but that was just a sign of being well loved in Claude’s mind. </p>
<p>“I brought this too. I thought you could use a distraction. I didn’t really know what kind of books you’d like, and I wouldn’t think you’d like my dense stuff. But I was able to find one of those knight tales from Faerghus.” It was something he’d seen Ashe with, but Claude thought better than to bring up familiar names. He gently pressed the book against the cot pillow, and was happy to see Dimitri’s hands back down in his lap when he turned back. “Tell me later what you like to pass the time with, I can bring it to you.”</p>
<p>With that, Claude pulled out the keyring from his pocket once more, slowly treading over to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get changed, and get some sleep, okay?” As he opened the door he gave Dimitri a soft smile, who had gradually started to pull back away from the wall to watch him leave. “Maybe we can get you cleaned up a bit in the morning.”</p>
<p>Claude locked the door with a quiet click, and waved a goodbye. “G’night, Dimitri.”</p>
<p>After hanging up the keyring, he glanced back one last time to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind. Through the bars he saw Dimitri watching him, his hand raised in the smallest wave back.</p>
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